Well she was a pet, you know


This is the Texas Longhorns, true story part three, late 1950s, the injury.

It was the beginning of winter. The ground was frozen with only a thin layer of snow. Early afternoon my dad and I went to check on the herd. One was missing.

Back at the edge of the woods, its left rear hoof slid under a tree root. This caused the cow to fall over, twisting but not breaking the leg. It also caused great pain. The leg had swelled and the cow was pretty well stiffened up.

She could not move much, but she could still swing those dangerous big horns.

Well, it happened we had the big heavy Hudson car that day (“the Tank” it was called by many). We drove up through the field to the injured cow. Now the entire herd had gathered around.

We put a heavy rope around her horns that she did not like at all. Then tied the other end to the car. Then we cut the root, releasing the hoof and twisted leg. Working hard we managed to roll her over onto her good side. That reduced some of the pain. We proceeded to drag her out to the front with the car where we could work on her.

The rest of the herd did not like that. They kicked up their heels, bounced all around and made a lot of noise.

We went home and got two big feather beds, tarps, some rags and a metal pail. Now it was dark out.

Everybody wanted us to shoot her but we were against that.

We went back and dried her off with the rags.Then packed the feather beds around her. Also covered her with the tarps.

We put some nice green hay, tasty grain and a red salt block where she could reach all of it. Then we got some old pine stumps and built a fire to keep her warm. From the nearby creek we got the water in the pail.

We heated it over the fire so it was warm for her to drink. She liked that.

My dad and I spent that night and the next in the car to keep the fire going.

The third day, the swelling went down and the pain also.

She was now strong enough to stand up and move slowly. It took more care but she recovered.

Well she was a pet, you know, and needed help.

That was the good old days.

William Schmitt

Retired logger